Next I tried my elder brother, Matthew, in South Africa. He was home, and soon, thanks to FaceTime, I had the whole family filling my screen: his wife, Juliet, son Tim and his wife Marie, and their four-year-old daughter, Phoebe. All were glowing with health with tanned faces and sun-kissed hair. They lived in Constantia in Cape Town, near to Juliet’s parents, and it was summer over there, sunlight streaming in through an open door behind them. They lived in a colonial-style bungalow with dark wooden floors, whitewashed walls, a veranda at the front and a garden full of bougainvillea at the back.

‘We’ve prepared a song, Bea,’ said Matthew and, on his nod, the whole family burst into a few rounds of ‘Ding Dong Merrily On High’. I laughed as they went at it with great gusto.

‘Now you sing,’ said Phoebe when they’d finished.

‘Oh er …’ I settled for a few verses of ‘We Wish you a Merry Christmas’, which they joined in with on the last lines.

‘Weird having our Christmas visit in cyberspace, isn’t it?’ said Matthew.

‘I guess – still, it’s magic to be able to see you and your gorgeous house.’

‘I’ve been drawing,’ said Phoebe. She disappeared for a few moments then came back and held up her artwork. It showed two stick people holding hands.

‘And who are they?’ I asked.

‘S’me and Jessie,’ said Phoebe.

‘Lovely,’ I said, ‘and is Jessie a friend?’

Phoebe nodded. ‘My sister.’

In the background, I noticed Tim and Marie exchange glances and smile. ‘Come on you,’ said Marie. ‘Time for bed.’

‘But Jessie’s not tired yet,’ said Phoebe.

‘OK,’ said Marie. ‘Well she can come and sit on the end of your bed while you go to sleep.’ She looked back out of the screen. ‘Merry Christmas, Bea, lovely to see you.’

‘You too,’ I said. ‘And have a great New Year.’

Tim, Marie and Phoebe waved from the screen and left me with Matthew and Juliet.

‘OK, so who’s Jessie? Have they adopted a child and you haven’t told me?’ I asked.

‘Oh no. Jessie’s not real,’ said Matthew.

‘Ah, so she’s a doll or something?’

Juliet shook her head. ‘She’s her imaginary friend. Phoebe’s hilarious. She’s always talking to her or about her and says she’s her sister.’

‘Probably because she’s an only child,’ said Matthew, ‘so until another comes along, she’s created her own fantasy sibling.’

‘We’ve had to accept her as part of the family,’ said Juliet.

‘Hey Bea, remember you had an imaginary friend when you were little?’ Matthew asked.

‘Me? No. I don’t remember that.’

‘God, I do. You used to threaten me with him if I’d annoyed you.’

‘Him?’